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kagehinataboke · 4 years

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only time will tell - chapter 4

“You’re fucking late. Again.” As usual, Katsuki is waiting in the classroom when Todoroki arrives, fifteen minutes late and in a cold sweat. Katsuki is wearing a basketball jersey—he’s on the school team, apparently—red track pants, and sneakers. His ever-present scowl seems especially sour today.

Todoroki takes off his backpack and clips his sunglasses to the collar of his shirt. “Sorry. I had to run here from a shoot.” He turns to the remedial students scattered around the room, plastering on a smile. “Did everyone wait long?”

All the girls immediately shake their heads, and even some of the boys, albeit reluctantly. Todoroki flashes Katsuki a smug look, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. Over the past week, Todoroki has been late to nearly every remedial session—and Katsuki isn’t happy, to say the least.

It’s not like Todoroki can help it: his agent basically ignored him when he asked her for an easier schedule. He has photoshoots or interviews nearly every day after school, so he has to run back to make it to the remedial lessons at six. He didn’t even have time to change today, so he’s still in the ripped jeans, collared blue shirt, and brown cardigan they put him in for the shoot. He even still has makeup on, although it’s probably been ruined by sweat.

“Now that you’ve deigned to join us, your majesty, let’s start.” Katsuki picks up a stack of papers on Aizawa’s vacant podium and passes them around. “These are practice tests. You morons are going to use what we went over during the last session and get over eighty percent on these, or we’ll do proofs for an hour straight. Got it?”

Silence.

Todoroki looks up after stripping off his cardigan and rolling up his shirt sleeves to find them all looking at him, including Katsuki.

Todoroki clears his throat, and everyone looks away instantly. “Sorry. Ah… You were saying, Bakugou?”

Katsuki, seeming significantly more annoyed than before, restarts his speech. Todoroki lingers in the background, only half-listening. He isn’t sure if he’s actually much help at these remedial lessons. His goal was to work closely with Katsuki, but there haven’t been any chances. On top of Todoroki always being late, Katsuki actually treats this like a job. He’s surprisingly dedicated to helping their classmates, to the point where Todoroki feels like dead weight.

“The hell’s up with you?” Katsuki demands after the remedial students leave—all having finished their tests with scores over 80, much to Katsuki’s pleasant surprise. His tone is more confrontational than conversational.

“I already apologized for being late,” Todoroki sighs. He already knows where this is headed: they’ve had the same exact talk every day this week. He doesn’t want to have it today. All of his energy is gone.

Perhaps Katsuki can tell—they did used to be close, after all—because instead of the inevitable scolding Todoroki was expecting, he receives a quiet, “Don’t be late again.”

It’s strange. More than strange, because Katsuki is being soft again. First it was back at the shed, and now this. Todoroki can’t deal with the way his look changes sometimes; the way his eyes seem to shift, becoming questioning, becoming different; with the way they eventually return to normal again, and the moment is gone.

Katsuki is just… so different. His hair, for one, and his piercings—and his attitude, most noticeably of all. Well, maybe second most noticeably. He’s also, to put it in simple terms, attractive now. Incredibly so. Todoroki obviously never saw him as anything more than a friend when they were kids, but now? Now it’s like the wool’s been pulled from his eyes. He sees all the things he couldn’t see before—like the curve of muscles under Katsuki’s jersey, and the way the veins in his arms flex as he picks up papers, or the way his black hair makes his eyes look a shade even deeper than red.

“What are you staring at?” Katsuki’s gaze settles on his face, and Todoroki thinks about not looking away. He thinks about staring back until he can find something recognizable in these eyes that he used to know so well.

But then he gives in; averts his gaze; clears his throat. “Nothing. I was just lost in thought.”

Todoroki does look up again, only briefly, to see that Katsuki has gone back to collecting papers. The ebony of his hair against the tan skin of his neck as he bends over the desks is strange and foreign.

“Your hair,” Todoroki finds himself saying. “I miss it being blond.”

“What?” Katsuki looks at him as if he’s lost his mind. Todoroki doesn’t fail to notice the way his hand flits to his scalp, then quickly back to his side. “Why the fuck are you saying that all of a sudden?” He snatches the last paper and roughly elbows Todoroki aside. “I’m going to put these away. Get lost already—and don’t be late tomorrow.”

Todoroki stares at the door for longer than he should. He isn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he thinks he saw faint red dusting the back of Katsuki’s neck. The black of his hair only made it stand out even more.

It probably was his imagination. And he should probably leave, because Katsuki will most certainly yell at him if he sticks around. ‘Damn Half n’ Half dumbass bastard, what the fuck are you still doing here? ’ or something along those lines. Half n’ Half is Katsuki’s new favorite insult. It’s because of Todoroki’s hair, which he started dying for his modeling career and never bothered to change.

Before Katsuki really does come back and scold him, Todoroki gathers his things and heads outside. It’s dark already—it’s nearing eight thirty—and the sky is a dark blue quickly encroaching on black. The night breeze is chilly enough that Todoroki stops by the front gate to put his cardigan back on. He’s got one arm in the sleeve when he spots someone vaguely familiar lingering just outside the gate.

It’s the guy Katsuki was talking to on the first day of school. What was his name, again? Shigaraki? It’s strange that he’s here so late, but if he and Katsuki are friends, maybe he can tell Todoroki a bit about him. Even if the guy is creepy, it’s worth a shot.

“Hey.” Todoroki approaches cautiously, waiting until he has Shigaraki’s attention to continue. “Are you looking for Bakugou? He probably won’t be out for awhile.”

Shigaraki’s expression is hard to read, but he’s smiling, at least. Even if it’s a strange, not-all-there smile. “Is that so?” He shrugs away from the wall, sticking his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatshirt. “He was supposed to go to a café with me. Why don’t you come instead?”

Todoroki frowns, fingers tracing along the edge of his backpack straps nervously. Why would they be meeting up? He remembers enough of their conversation to guess that Katsuki doesn’t like Shigaraki very much. But this is such a good opportunity… Ugh.

“Okay,” Todoroki agrees, pushing away every ounce of doubt. “What café?” He can’t pass up a chance to learn more about Katsuki—at least, not when he still refuses to talk about anything other than school.

“Just follow me.” Shigaraki is still smiling.

Todoroki tries very hard to convince himself that it's a reassuring smile and that he isn’t being lured into an alleyway or abandoned building to be murdered. Fuyumi would kill him twice over for being stupid enough to follow a stranger—even if that stranger knows one of his friends. Ex-friends? Whatever.

Ah, he was psyching himself out for nothing… The place Shigaraki brings him is a plain old coffee shop, with a pastel interior and comfy booths and the heavy bitter-sweet smell of espresso. They take a seat in the corner, surrounded by plush cushions and decorative paintings. Not sinister in the least. In fact, the place puts him at ease enough to get down to business.

“Sorry to do this right when we sit down, but…” Todoroki leans forward in the booth, glancing around to make sure that Katsuki isn’t somehow here to eavesdrop. He isn’t, obviously, but he still keeps his voice low anyway. “I was wondering… exactly how much do you know about Bakugou?”

* * * * * *

“Shouto, you’re home late.” Fuyumi glances up from her spot at the kitchen table with a raised brow. She’s got a laptop in front of her and several open files, as well as a half-empty cup of coffee. It looks like she’s expecting a long night.

Todoroki kicks off his shoes at the door. “Sorry. I went to visit a café with… a friend from school.” Better to lie than to have her asking questions.

“Oh, you made a friend? That’s good.” Fuyumi has already turned back to her work: crisis averted. Todoroki breathes a sigh of relief, but he isn’t in the clear yet. She snags his wrist when he tries to pass her to reach the stairs. “Hold on. Did you eat?”

“Fuyumi— “

“Don’t ‘Fuyumi’ me, you brat. I made you rice balls. They’re in the fridge, and if you don’t eat them all, I swear I’ll set your favorite sweater on fire—“

“Okay, okay.” Todoroki grimaces and switches directions to head into the kitchen. “I’m taking them. Geez.” He grabs the rice balls from the second shelf and retreats upstairs, sitting cross-legged on the floor to eat.

He’s exhausted after running from the shoot straight to the remedial lesson, then spending two hours at the café talking to Shigaraki—who isn’t actually a bad guy. He’s a bit awkward, and there’s definitely something strange about him, but he seems nice enough. He told Todoroki a lot about Katsuki. Apparently, they used to hang out in middle school.

Todoroki didn’t end up finding out what caused Katsuki to change so much, but he does know a few things about how to deal with him—courtesy of Shigaraki, whose number is now saved on his phone. The thing that stuck out the most was that he said to be ‘cute,’ whatever that means. Todoroki figures he’ll have to try out some different things.

It’s weird. For once, he’s feeling so hopeful that he can’t stop smiling. After he finishes the rice balls, he composes an email to his agent—and then deletes it and starts another one. He still isn’t quite sure how to quit. Can he just come out and say it? That somehow doesn’t seem like it’ll work. He’s never actually quit anything before, so he doesn’t know what one is supposed to say.

Ah, he’s getting a message. He'll worry about it tomorrow. Todoroki gets up from the floor and sits on his mattress before checking it.

from: Touya at: 10:36 PM.

>> Hey, I’m coming back to town this weekend. I tried to ask Fuyumi if she wants to meet up but she’s ignoring me. I think she’s pissed.

Touya, huh? It’s been a while. Todoroki last heard from him right after their dad died. Of course he’d only come to him when Fuyumi is mad.

to: Touya at: 10:38 PM.

>> She has a right to be mad. Did you apologize?

The answer is obvious, even before the response comes. Touya might be the most irresponsible person in the world.

from: Touya at: 10:40 PM.

>> No. She’s the one who’s overreacting. Why should I have to apologize?

Todoroki rolls his eyes. He’s not even going to bother responding to that. His brother probably won’t listen, anyway. Why is everyone so immature? Touya refuses to apologize, Katsuki keeps giving Todoroki the cold shoulder… The world is full of imbeciles.

Todoroki gets up to grab his bag with a sigh, pausing when he knocks something off his bed. His and Katsuki’s smiling faces beam up at him from the carpet, their arms wrapped around each other like they never want to let go. Todoroki forgot he had the picture on his bed. He’s been looking at it a lot recently, getting caught up in nostalgia. (He isn’t a very productive person.)

Katsuki really did look much better with blond hair. The black makes him blend in too much. Todoroki always thought he was the kind of person born to stand out, with his crimson eyes and hair the color of winter sunlight. In fact, the whole reason Todoroki chose his current look to trademark in the modeling industry was because of Katsuki. He was going for blond on the right side, but it turned out more white—and by then it was too late to change it.

Todoroki probably shouldn’t be obsessing over his hair so much. It’s pointless, especially when he’s been over about a million fantasy scenarios in his head—scenarios where things turned out differently. But Katsuki is a different person now: Todoroki knows that. He’s crass and unfriendly and completely impossible to figure out. He doesn’t want anything to do with him, but there are times when it seems as if there’s something between them. To put it simply, Katsuki’s hair is the absolute last of Todoroki’s problems.

But still, if even one thing were to return to how it used to be, then…

Ah, never mind. He shouldn’t get his hopes up.

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#finally updating chapters on tumblr rip me #there will be more chaps up on ao3 soon too #yay #uwu #calla.txt #my writing #tdbk #todobaku #bnha #model au

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